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IN THE BEAUTY PARLOR
by April Halprin Wayland
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I play on the floor
with my lavender horse
while Mama’s hair
is cut and combed.
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Clouds scowl outside.
Then dark skies break—
I dash to the window—
a storm pours down!
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Rumbling! Â Thundering!
Lightning crashing!
I jump—
oak tree cracking!
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Everyone
and Mama and me
presses against glass
to see the tree.
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Rain pours,
patters,
drips…
stops.
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Clouds pull apart
like dinner rolls.
Crumbs float off,
blue pokes through.
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I Â sit back on the floor
near the hair-cutter’s chair.
Horse grazes in a field
of Mama’s hair.
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(c) 2011 Â April Halprin Wayland, all rights reserved
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The story behind the poem:
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I was in the beauty parlor listening to news of another earthquake in Japan. Â I began to think about how easily we settle back into our normal lives…even after incredible tragedy strikes nearby.
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I’ve written a poem before about a child whose horse grazes on the floor of a beauty parlor while the mother is having her hair cut, as my son used to play when he was small.
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Confession: 30 poems in 30 days will produce some pretty raw poetry.  This one doesn’t hang together yet.  It’s too long and just not right yet.  So, I guess today’s poem is a good example of the fact that most poems need more than a day to cook—at least most of my poems do!
